


day of rest

by ymorton



Category: Pod Save America (RPF)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-07 23:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11634225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ymorton/pseuds/ymorton
Summary: very very brief fic meme fill so i don't have to post my favorite ot3 with my favorite non-famous lady on tumblr.for the prompt emjonjon, things you said with no space between us.





	day of rest

**Author's Note:**

> WILD that jon, jon, and emily got married last month!!!
> 
> please don't show this to any of the people mentioned. i'm ashamed enough already.
> 
> podsavemysoul on tumblr come join the party

Jon nudges the half-open door with his foot. He has an extra-hot mocha in one hand and an iced latte in the other, and he sets them down on the dresser as fast as he can, shakes his hands out, hissing.

They’re still asleep. Makes sense considering it’s only 8:00, but they were awake enough to place their orders when Jon crawled out of bed a half hour ago. Lazy asses. 

He grabs Emily’s drink and knees onto the bed, laughing when she groans at the movement and digs her face into the pillow. Lovett’s nestled under the duvet next to her, brow furrowed and eyes shut. Jon bites his lip in a grin. He’s woken up with both of them most mornings for a solid month now but it still feels unreal, like the other shoe’ll drop any minute now. 

“Morning,” he whispers, and Emily opens one eye to peek at him, nose wrinkling.

“Morning, babe.” She yawns. 

“Coffee,” Jon says enticingly, waving it, wincing when he nearly spills. Third degree burns in bed would be a fun way to start the day. “And croissants downstairs.”

She smiles, rolling over in bed. Lovett stirs, lifts his head and rubs his eyes with one hand.

“Look who’s finally awake,” Jon says, handing Emily her drink and sliding off the bed to grab Lovett’s.

“Look who woke me up,” Lovett mumbles, but he sticks out a hand for his coffee, starts to push himself up on his elbow. He's wearing Favs' t-shirt, an old one that hangs loose on him. “Get back in here, it’s too early. It’s Sunday, you’re Catholic, take your day of rest.” 

Favs pulls off his gym shorts eagerly and complies, clambering over Emily's legs as she sits against the headboard. It’s warm in the space between them, and he lays there for a second staring at the ceiling, eyes falling shut. God it feels good.

“Thanks for the coffee, babe,” Emily murmurs, stroking a hand through his hair. 

“Oh Jesus,” Lovett says from his other side, phone in hand. “You wouldn’t believe what he tweeted now. Fucking batshit.” 

Emily groans. “We’re having a nice, peaceful Sunday morning, Lovett. No Twitter. Right, Jon?” 

“Right,” Favs says lazily, pressing his head against her thigh. She rewards him with a nice scratch of fingernails over his scalp. “Put it away, Lovett.” 

“You hypocrite. You tweeted like twelve times at Starbucks.” Lovett slurps his drink and keeps scrolling. “You’ve already replied to each one of his tweets. It’s actually a little excessive. Was there a really long line?" 

Favs laughs, shoving Lovett’s knee under the duvet. “Fucking snitch.”

"Phone away, Lovett," Emily says sternly, pulling it out of his hand. "My bed my rules."  

Lovett grumbles, defeated, and slides under the covers again.


End file.
